Naming the Unnamed

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When I was new to the Piedmont apartment, I loved it. I clearly recall waking up one, quiet Saturday afternoon with nothing planned. I was 27 years old. Usually, I’d be elated at the fact that I wasn’t rushing off to some rehearsal or didn’t need to be somewhere; usually, I’d be so excited to have a rest day, but on that particular morning, I felt a sense of panic sweeping my insides. Slightly alarmed, I wondered what that feeling was. I’d decided that it was a biological indicator asking myself if this was all to life…living quietly, working until my youth fades into the past; maybe the idea of this freaked me out. In my head, I accomplished what I’d been hoping for since my temporary days at the county: a “stable” job (I put quotes on that because a lay off could happen despite such stability and the idea of stability is actually a false truth, but more on that later), and to live in a quaint little apartment in a location I desired, which was this Piedmont apartment (walking distance to a nice strip filled with mom-and-pop restaurants, vintage bookstores, and even a boba place!). For the most part, I was content; so when that unnamed feeling struck, I was curious. I resigned to thinking that it was probably my subconscious grappling with my 30s on the horizon. So I ignored it. Today however, I couldn’t help but wonder if that feeling was a red flag, telling my stubborn mind that that wasn’t actually it; that I silently retired my true hopes and dreams in exchange for this false idea of security. Now that my true hopes and dreams are fully realized, I feel I have made strides in accomplishing them. I found it interesting that that little feeling long ago was more than an unidentified emotion…it was a literal tug by my heart to signal that life, for me, was not what I thought it should be. At that time, I was pursuing to obtain a master’s degree in hopes of advancing at work, thinking that I’d be retiring from there. Today, that couldn’t have been more wrong. So much of my life needs to be lived and if I never boldly admitted to myself what I wanted, I would’ve squandered my life to the confines I’ve allowed society to place on me for so long. That feeling long ago was not serendipitous, it was merely an answer to my verbalized questions of “was this it?” Had I listened better, I would’ve gotten this clear answer then: No, this is not it. It won’t be it until you’ve exhausted yourself traveling the world doing mission work, planting seeds of faith, advocating for peace and love, and most importantly, creating. I’m not saying that’s what I’ll be doing forever…who knows what I’ll be doing years from now – I may have new dreams and goals – but one thing I know for sure is I MUST do this. My stubborn head is, of course, reminding me how impractical all this is, especially after an arduous journey to secure my position…and what about money? What about this and what about that? The great thing about a strengthened faith is having conviction in what one is called to do despite the foreseen obstacles; that faith and trust in God is greater than any worries, doubts and fears. After all, Matthew wrote: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?” Now I understand what listening to your heart means.